An Irish Clover
by keynote
Summary: Jack promised if anyone did anything to her, they'd have to deal with him. Jack promised her that she wouldn't have to worry about any of them. Now he has to keep his feelings to himself, or risk losing the respect of his word.
1. Fields of Gold

Disclaimer/Claimer: I own Dara, but not the song or Ireland. I also don't know if clover roses are real, but I call this one beautiful flower that, so yeah.   
  
  
  
Dara Taheny walked on the roof of the building, the fingers on her left hand grazing along the collection of clover roses. The smoothness of the petals relaxed her body as she continued on her way.  
  
"I never made promises lightly," she sang, her eyes seemingly fixed on the sky, but she was realy seeing Ireland, with its beautiful rolling hills and the soft sounds of a piccolo in the distance.  
  
"And there have been some that I've broken." The fields of golden wheat swaying in the wind, the children laughing as they ran, carrying flowers of all sorts.  
  
As she continued her song, she became lost in the wonderland that was Ireland. She loved it, ever since she was able to see and hear, or even smell. She remembered her first smell: the fragrance of clover roses and herbs being ground together for a perfume.  
  
"And we'll walk in fields of gold." With the conclusion of her song, Dara left her Ireland home to return to the city surroundings of Manhatten. Where the endless fields of grains and hills had once been now stood building after building. Instead of the children's laughter there were the calls of newsies trying to sell their papers. And where the fragrance of herbs and flowers once wafted, there was the smoke with the faintest hint of the clover roses in front of her.   
  
No matter how much Dara enjoyed the city, she knew that nothing could compare to Ireland.  
  
**  
  
There it is, I hope you like it.  
  
§shasanixie§ 


	2. Da

            Dara walked down the stairs, her arms full with clothes from the line. She gently kicked the door, calling to her sister. "Arcadia, please come open the door."

            She heard tiny footsteps pounding their way to the door.  The wooden door opened to a young, flaming red-head girl. She stood out of the way and allowed her sister to walk by. 

            Dara gently set the clothing on one of the beds and lifted up one of her father's shirts. She folded it evenly and set it on the bed. As she began to pick up more clothes, Arcadia came and sat on the bed, plopping down quite forcefully. The bed bounced slightly, causing some of the clothes to topple out of the pile. 

            "Arcadia, be more careful," Dara said as she caught a pair of pants before they fell off the bed. She shook them out before folding them. 

            Her sister nodded, her bright hair flying into her face. Dara glanced over at her and smiled. "Come here," she said as she motioned her little sister to sit in front of her. Arcadia bounded over and sat down cross-legged.

            Dara picked up her sister's beautiful, long red hair and brushed through it with her fingers, pulling out here and there a few knots. She then wrapped some twine around her hair and pulled it up into a ponytail. She then began to braid it, her fingers weaving delicately with the hair. She was finished quickly, and she wrapped the braid into a bun. From there she pinned it in place. 

            "There," she said, gently patting her sister once on the back before returning to folding the clothes. Arcadia patted her hair with her hand, smiling at the firmness of her hair. She skipped over to her sister. 

            "Dara, did you use to do my hair when I was tiny?" she asked as she carefully, this time, sat on the bed.

            Dara laughed. "No Arc, that was mama who did that. I was too young to do your hair." She grabbed the pile of her mother's clothes and took them over to her mother's dresser. She placed them in their according places. She then did the same with her father's, her own, and Arcadia's. 

            Just then, the door opened to reveal a man with red hair and dulling green eyes. His smile upon seeing his children, however, brightened his eyes. "Dara! Arcadia! How energized it makes a father feel to see his children healthy and happy at home!" he called, opening his arms to welcome his girls.

            Arcadia ran into his arms, hugging him tight. Dara gently closed her drawer to hers and Arcadia's dresser. She walked over to her father and kissed his cheek. "Welcome home da," she said, taking his coat for him. He set his youngest daughter down and sat in one of the wooden chairs by the kitchen table. 

            "Oh, the factory's been taking quite a toll on me lately. I feel my bones aching more and more as each day passes," he said, placing his hand on his back and stretching, his face becoming a grimace. 

            Dara brought him a cup of a steaming liquid. "Da, how many times have I told you,  I am more than willing to work until you regain your strength," she said as she set the cups in his hands. He sighed and took a sip of the liquid.

            "Tis a sad day when a father must watch his daughter go off to work for his own benefit. However, I feel I must agree this time. I feel as though I cannot move without aching." She nodded, kissing her father on the cheek one last time. 

            "I shall go out and look for a job then da, see you at dinner time." And with that, she took off to the streets to find a job. 


	3. Memories and a Job

The streets were bustling with people going whichever way they wished, the calls of newsboys echoing the whole way from one end of a street to another. Little children, mainly boys, played in the streets, many with wooden swords and paper hats. Merchants had their carts or stands set up with tempting offers, many of which were occupied with eager customers.  
  
Dara smiled as she made her way through the crowd. She had already been to three places, all of which had politely, yet regretfully turned her down. The sewing factory had informed her that they had already hired too many people; the restaurant informed her they were looking for a busboy; and the flower shop had regretfully turned her away, saying that she was just a year too young. So, as she made her way down a less crowded street, her eyes searched for any place looking for help.  
  
She had reached about the half-way point of the street when she saw a scraggly, yet decently written sign asking for help. She looked at the name of the place, and smiled a bit as the words 'Newsboys Lodging House' filled her eyes. She knew her father wouldn't be extremely happy that she'd be working around boys of all ages, but she also knew that they needed the money, and that he would not turn her down.  
  
The door closed silently behind her, and she tugged at the waist of her skirt. She saw an elderly man, half-asleep it looked, sitting at the main desk. She gently walked over to him, and tapped his shoulder.  
  
He jerked awake, looking at her. He blinked a few times, then sniffed and pushed his hat back onto his head correctly. She smiled simply at him, and he returned it quickly. "Yes? Can I help you missy?"  
  
She nodded, then turned to the window. "I came to see about the help," she said, pointing to the sign. "Are you allowing girls to apply?"   
  
He nodded, then coughed into his hand. "Yes, I am. Right now I could care less if a monkey applied. You see, I'm sick, and I need any help I can get." She nodded as he motioned her to follow him. "The boys help whenever they can, but they're not here half the day, and when they are, they want to have fun or eat, or whatever those boys do," he said, managing a small laugh.   
  
He led her back a narrow hallway, and he had to duck his head under the doorway as he led her into a small stone room. "And I'd hate to force more work on those boys than they already have to deal with. Well, here's the supply room. Not very much, I know, but it gets the place clean and keeps it organized."   
  
He proceeded to tell her where everything was, and how to run the place. He told her about the ten cents per night to stay in, and he also informed her that sometimes he'd let them slip by.

* * *

She left that evening, having spent most of the day there practicing everything he had told her. He made sure to get her out before any of the boys returned. She made her way home, wrapping her sweater around her a bit tighter. As the slight cold nipped her ears and nose, she thought back to her first winter in Ireland.  
  
_ The snow started to fall gently outside, and her eyes widened at the new substance. It was pure white, and it reflected the little moonlight that shone down. It looked so peaceful and quiet compared to the bustle going on in her house right then. She blinked, and wriggled out of the chair.   
  
She was still a babe, so she crawled as unnoticeably as was possible for a one year old. Her little knees and hands padded carefully along the way, making sure that they didn't give out from under her weight. The doorway was getting closer, and she gurgled, her little baby noise going unnoticed by her parents, who were moving about the house, preparing it for dinner.  
  
The light snow fell on to her bare head, stinging her pale flesh with the coldness that accompanied it. But she didn't whine or cry. It felt assuring to her. She dipped her small fingers in to the snow, removing them and watching in awe as the ice crystals melted and disappeared in the warmth emitting from her hand. She gurgled louder this time, and took a few more steps outside the house.  
  
She closed her eyes and slapped her hands in joy against the now snow-covered ground. A smile broke out on her face, revealing her gummed mouth. She screamed in delight, and it was then that her mother realized her baby girl was outside in the cold, and went to retrieve her._  
  
Snow had always been nature's comfort to Dara, as Arcadia favored rain. Their parents had always kept the door open to the house whenever their children could not get to sleep, that way Dara could see the snow falling peacefully down, or Arcadia could hear the rain slapping gently against the ground. It awed them that they never needed anything more than nature to lure them to sleep.  
  
As Dara reached the apartment building she and her family lived in, she looked up, and decided to use the fire escape. She slowly and carefully climbed her way up the metal stairs, some levels covered in laundry that the people occupying the other apartments hung out to dry. She ducked under a few shirts as she continued up.  
  
She reached the window leading into her home, and she paused. She took in a deep breath, then closed her eyes. Her lips parted as the fresh, cool air took shelter in her warm mouth. She smiled, opening her eyes, then turned to the window, entering. She was going to tell her father she had found a job.


	4. Arcs

The table was set as she climbed into the warmth of her house, closing the window after her. Arcadia immediately greeted her, hugging her around her waist. Dara patted her little sister on the back before she headed to where her father was sitting.

As she reached the place in front of her father's chair, she waited to be acknowledged. "Come sweets, let your poor father know. Have you found a job?" At his words, her smile crept across her face, her eyes twinkling in the low lighting. He smiled and chuckled, extending his arms out to envelope her in a hug. After a few moment's silence, he let go of her, smiling as a proud father would. "I always knew I had a good daughter on me hands."

She smiled, before swiftly placing a kiss on his cheek. "Now, tell me, what is this job you've found?" She grabbed some plates from the cabinet to set on the table before looking over to him.

"I've gotten a job at the Newsboys Lodging House. I'll be working the front desk, cleaning, checking them in and out, all that. The man is sick, so I figured I could do this until he's better, than find another job." She smiled contently as her sister began to carefully set the glasses with the plates. "Where's ma?"

Her father smiled and stood up to help his two children. "She's at the cloth store, buying some fabric for a new dress for Arcadia. Seems she's torn her good Sunday one." Arcadia blushed lightly before running off to her joined room that she shared with her sister. Dara laughed.

* * *

That night, as Dara helped her mother wash the dishes from that night's dinner, her mother cast a glance at her. "So, what's this I hear about you getting a job?" Dara smiled as she set the now dry plate in the correct cabinet. 

"Da said it would be alright if I worked until he got his strength back." She set another plate down in the cabinet, next to the others, and accepted another from her mother.

"Well, I'm very proud of you Dara. And at a Newsboys Lodging House?" Dara nodded, smiling at her mom. Her mom wrapped her in a one-armed hug before going back to cleaning.

"Sweets, can you come here a moment?" her father called from her shared room with Arcadia. She looked at her mother, who motioned her to go, before setting the towel down and walking in to the room.

"Yes da?" she asked, fixing her hair a bit. Arcadia beamed up at her as Dara took a place in front of her father.

"Sweets, I need you to do me a favor. You know with your mother expecting soon, she can't be at work much longer." She nodded, finally sitting down on the bed next to her little sister. Arcadia attached herself to Dara's waist, her eyes still locked on her father. "But, since we'll need all the money we can get, we need another worker." He looked fondly at Arcadia. "That's why I need you to find Arcs here a job."

You looked at Arcadia, noticing her rather large smile. Dara smiled back, then nodded. "I can find her the best job. That is, if she doesn't mind working with boys."

* * *

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get another one up and for it being so short! I'm slowly working on posting more of my other stories as well, then I plan to work harder to get them all finished, since I'd like to start on a book I want to write. Thanks for being patient!

--renee--


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